I Made You My First (12 page)

I left him a message:
“Hey Irish, it’s Pepper,” I giggled, “I wanted to confirm our date for tomorrow. Call me when you can and let me know what I need to bring and what time you’ll be here so I can be ready. Later.”  I punched the
off
button and lay there with the phone in my hand on my chest, waiting for his call.  I must’ve fallen asleep.   

I woke up to the sun shining in my wi
ndow, my hand still clutching the phone.  I squinted, looking to see if I had any missed calls. No calls. I lay there, listening to what sounded like music. I looked at my phone again, seven-thirty-five in the morning;
Judy should be gone already
, I thought. I rolled out of bed, deciding I’d call Irish again after I had coffee. The radio was playing in the bathroom, but no Judy. She must’ve forgotten to turn it off. Coffee and phone in hand, I headed for the patio.
No notes from Judy this morning.  That’s odd
, I thought. I plopped down in a chair and punched in Irish’s number. It sent me straight to voicemail. I hung up. Could he have changed his mind?  I thought he was excited about going to this
somewhere
he’d spoken of several times now. Just then my phone rang.

“
Hello
,
” I said too loudly.

“
Hey it’s me, sorry I missed your call, I was a little involved in something
,
” and his voice became a soft murmur.

“
No problem, Irish
,
” I began…. He was quiet while he waited for me to continue.

“
I wondered what to bring and when you’d be here
,” I said.

“Go to the front door and I’ll
be happy to answer your questions.” 

I closed my phone, skipping to the front door, opening
it and there stood Irish in a
very
tight tee shirt and jeans. No work uniform. He looked at me and I couldn’t help staring at his face. He had a huge swollen black-and-blue eye. I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to silence the scream. Without saying anything, I stepped back from the door so he could enter. I lowered my hand from my mouth, now offering it to him. He accepted it and we clung to each other in silence for several minutes. I finally broke away and leaned back to see his face. I touched his cheek lightly.

“
What happened, Irish
?
”

“
My face was in the wrong place at the wrong time
,” was all he said. I pulled his hand, leading him to the sofa and we both sat down.

I asked one more time
, “
What happened
?
”

He just stared at me as if he were
struggling with telling me the truth.

I stared back, “
Spill it, and I want the truth
.”

“
You’re not going to like the truth, Jurnee,” he whispered.

“There’re many things I don’
t like Irish, but I can deal with them,” I told him.  “How’d you get the shiner?” 

He sighed, “
I got the black eye from John.”

“You got it from my brother?”  I asked
confused and surprised.

“Yes, that’s the John I’m talking about,” h
e scoffed.

“Why?”

“
First he told me to stay away from you.  Second, he found out that I went to the airport the day you arrived when he told me not to
.
”
 
He looked down and continued... “
And when you hear the whole story, I’m sure you’re going to be upset and probably not want to go anywhere with me today
.”   I felt my eyebrows wrinkle together and my lips press together tightly. I reached for his face and lifted his chin gently so he could look at me.

“
What are you talking about
?”  I demanded.   “Irish, why would I be angry at you?  Stop worrying and spit it out.” I reached for both of his hands.

He reluctantly gave them to me.
At least thirty seconds passed and he finally began, “Okay, John gave me the black eye last night when I got off work.  Brandy, that girl you saw me with,
had
a ride to the airport, but when I found out it was the same day you were arriving, I called and offered to take her to get around John’s
order.
”  He pulled his hands back from me and placed them on his thighs, like the bottom was falling out of his confession.  “I guess he hadn’t known that I’d gone until yesterday.”  

I
suddenly got a sick feeling in my stomach. “He asked me yesterday when he called if I’d met you at the airport, Irish, and I told him I had. I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

“It’
s not your fault, Jurnee.  It’s mine,” he said.  “Anyway this all started a year ago when my father asked my brother Hayden and me what company we wanted to straighten out for him. He owns twelve construction companies, but he has three he’s concerned about. He’s been showing us both the ins and outs of the way he wanted things to be run and he asked us each to pick one.  Hayden picked Virginia Beach.  I knew that was just a six-hour drive from you in North Carolina, so I asked Hayden to let me have it, and he was more than happy to go to Colorado.”   He seemed to be relaxing a little and I watched his face like it held the answer to why the world was round. 

“
When John found out where I was going, he spoke to my dad and somehow convinced him to send someone else to Virginia Beach, so I stayed here.”

I looked at him and felt totally lost.  “
So what does this have to do with John hitting you?” I asked.

“Well, I’
d told London that Virginia Beach was close to your aunt and uncle’s place and that I wanted to start spending time with you, and he told John.” He stopped and was studying my face. “Anyway, I should’ve known better than to say anything to London because he told your brother, and then John went to my father and said who knows what,” and he rolled his eyes.

Extremely
puzzled, I asked, “So
why
does my brother have pull with your dad?”

He
looked surprised that I’d even asked that question. As if I should’ve known the answer already. “Jurnee, after your parents passed away, John sold their house and now owns part of our family business. You didn’t know that?”

“
No, well I mean, I knew John was going to sell the house, but I didn’t know where John worked or for whom. I don’t even know where John lives,” I admitted.

“
John lives in a house on our property...where I took you on Sunday,” he said in a whisper.  I sat back and tried to collect my thoughts and make sense of this information. I could feel Irish looking at me, so I looked back into his face.

“Why did John hit you, Irish?”
I finally asked. “What reason did he have to hit you?” I raised my hand and touched his chin turning his swollen eye toward my face.

He looked at me directly
. “He said he wanted me to stay away from you because I’d only end up hurting you, but I’m thinking that it was more than that,” he noted.

“Well,
he had no right to hit you, Irish.” I moved my hand back down to my lap.

“Now
why am I supposed to be upset with you?” 

H
e looked away from me for several seconds as if he were getting ready to blurt it out, and then he turned back to me and with the most apologetic face said, “He knows I slept with you.”

I felt so sorry for him in that moment.
He looked beaten as though he’d confessed to some great sin. I sighed, looking him straight in his eyes, smiling comfortingly. He didn’t return the favor. He just watched me. I held my hand back out for his. He gave it to me slowly as if it might be some kind of a trick. I needed him to understand that there was no romance between John and me.

“Irish, I don’
t care what John thinks or knows.”  I almost said I didn’t care if he’d watched but stopped myself, thank goodness.  “John and I are related by blood, but I’m closer to Judy’s neighbor than I am to him. Is that why you thought I’d cancel our plans today? Because John knows that
we did it
?” I asked. He looked at me with a blank stare.

I smiled and slapped his knee.
“Let me get some ice for your eye.” I left him sitting there and went to get an ice pack. When I returned to the living room, Irish was standing. When I looked at him, he looked serious.  I quickly felt panic shoot through my body,
maybe there was more than what he’d just told me
, I thought. My sense of relief quickly returned to fear and confusion.

“Please put that on the table,” he said,
looking at me. I set the pack down. He held his hands out for mine. I slowly stepped forward, watching for any change of expression on his face. Maybe he was just messing with me. He took my hands and pulled me into his body.

We stood there fo
r a moment and I said, “Irish, you’re scaring me.”

He pulled me
closer into him and his hands were now gripping my hips as he held me in place.  He leaned back to look at me and the awkwardness intensified. This moment reminded me of the way I’d felt when I’d gotten the news about my parents.  Before I had a chance to say anything, he leaned forward with that special look, the one that says
prepare yourself because I’m going to kiss you
.  He took my face cautiously in his hands, asking permission with his eyes. Now I was totally confused. He was giving me so many different signals.

“
Irish, is there something you haven’t told me?”

“
Yes, there’s something important I haven’t told you
.
”  His voice was a whisper. My body stiffened. I felt a lump in my throat as I waited for him to continue.

He
 leaned in and gently kissed my lips. Leaning back and in a soft whisper, he said, “I haven’t told you I love you today.”

I felt my whole body relax as I placed my head on
his chest. He stood there, holding me tightly, rocking me gently.

Irish sat on the
sofa while I went to my room to gather my clothes for our sleep-over. He suggested I bring a swimsuit, but he did so with a wink, so I highly doubted I was really going to wear it.  While in my room I spotted the bottle of Grand Marnier I’d bought. “Um, Irish, will I need my secret weapon?”  I giggled. I didn’t hear him answer so I popped my head out of the room. Before I had a chance to look up, Irish was standing in front of me. “Oh, there you are,” I said, startled.

Looking
at me with his beautiful swollen face he answered, “No, we’ll have everything there we want, save it.”  

I looked at him. “Well aren’
t you having fun being the mysterious one?” I reached for his hand and led him to the bed. I gently pushed him to a sitting position and returned to my packing. “Irish, what are you bringing exactly?” I asked while looking through my closet. 

“I only have what I’m wearing.  I have clothes already there,”
he answered.

Turning around and facing him in my flannel rose pajamas
, I gave him my best look of desperation. “When are you going to tell me where we’re going? This would be so much easier if I knew.”

He
smiled at me. Then the smile became an evil grin, “I’m not telling.”

“All right, then move your butt
and pick out what I should bring.” He raised an eyebrow at me, but walked to my closet.

“I have my bathing suit so far, but that’s all.”

He gave me a quick smile and grabbed a pair of jeans off
a hanger and held them out to me. Then he pulled a blue tank top off another one and tossed it my way. “Find some shoes and we should be good to go,” he said with the most delicious smile. “I remember you telling me on the phone yesterday that you’d go anywhere with me, no questions asked.”

“Um,
no, I don’t believe I said
no questions asked
. That’s totally not me,” I grinned. 

“
Well the pilot’s going to be at the plane and ready to go at noon so we should be getting ready if we want to be there on time.” He reached his finger to my chin, giving me a smile as he turned and left my room. I stood there for a couple of seconds and then popped my head out of the doorway.

“Pilot?” I asked but he didn’
t turn around. I shut my door and got dressed. I shoved my bathing suit in my purse and headed for the bathroom to finish packing.

*
* *

We pulled up to what looke
d like the smallest airport I’d ever seen. A sign read
Gillespie Field
. Irish parked the car and took a deep breath. “Well we’re here,” he said.  “Are you ready?”